All The Pretty Colors
by HairSprayFashionista
Summary: Musings from the Enterprise crew about other members of the Enterprise crew. A series of one shots that bleed into one conciousness/timeline.
1. Red

**I'M NOT GOING TO MAKE EXCUSES OR EVEN ATTEMPT TO EXPLAIN WHY I'M STARTING A NEW STORY WITH THREE HANGING IN LIMBO. STILL HOPE YOU ENJOY...**

Something about her always made him melancholy.

The way her smiled never seemed to make it to her whole face. Her posture, always perfectly erect, seemed ramrod out of necessity rather than true strength. Her steps had a rhythm that couldn't quite be called a rhythm. A sort of clacking shuffle skip, probably earned through years of rushing around the academy.

Chekov was probably the only man aboard the Enterprise who wasn't attracted to Lt. Uhura.

He found her eyes a bit too large, her lips too pursed, her cheek bones so sharply high it was painful. Mostly, though, she was sad.

Even if no one else noticed, he did. Beaten, but not defeated is still beaten.

The scarlet of her uniform flashing down corridors.

Reminding him of the girl she used to be. Reminding him of other things.

She never asked why they didn't speak.


	2. Orange

**POSTING TWICE IN TWO DAYS...I MIGHT BE GETTING MY FLOW BACK! **

Seventeen. Seventeen and on the bridge of the U.S.S. Enterprise.

At seventeen he hadn't had enough sense to pour piss out of a boot with directions on the heel. Although, growing up full of rage in Iowa was probably entirely different than growing up surrounded by textbooks in Russia.

The kid was tough though. Been through the worst of it and had handled it as well as the best of them.

His position on the bridge afforded Kirk the best vantage point and Chekov being in his direct line of sight was studied more often than most.

A tilt of the orange curl covered head to the left mean he was working on plotting courses and if he seemed to stare at the stars a moment too long he was missing Russia.

The way he said _keptin_ never failed to make Kirk smile.

He prayed everyday the kid made it to eighteen.


	3. Yellow

Yellow did not become James Tiberius Kirk. The Captain's latest brush with death left him languishing in sick bay slipping in and out of consciousness. His skin glowed a blinding, unnatural shade of yellow.

His recovery was neither imminent, nor guaranteed. Spock had assumed temporary command of the vessel in the Captain's illness. The task did not tax Spock intellectually or physically, but daily visits to the Captain's bedside were perhaps affecting him.

The Captain's condition had not changed in 3.7 days. He had gotten no better. He had gotten no worse. The stagnancy of his condition was a concern to the science minded First Officer. If the Captain's condition were changing action could be taken in either case. Preparations could be made for his death or for his recovery, but a state of suspension caused Spock to hesitate.

When 5.2 days had passed Kirk gave a shuddering gasp and opened his eyes. Looking slightly disoriented he seemed to take his surroundings and current skin color affliction with passivity worthy of a Vulcan.

Spock said, "Jim", for the first and only time.


	4. Green

**THE STORY CONTINUES...THANKS FOR THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE REVIEWED AND THANK YOU FOR EVERYONE WHO HAS READ, BUT NOT REVIEWED...HOPE YOU ENJOY IT...**

It was everywhere, all over McCoy and all over the nurse. Damned stuff. The green color of Spock's blood didn't concern McCoy as much as the consistency. More like paint than water and it seemed to get on everything. The whole damned sickbay had a green tinge as far as McCoy could see.

Up to his elbows in Spock's chest he thanked God again for not puttin' the hobgoblin's heart where a human's was. Damned fool. Takin' a spear to the chest like that and now a piece had broken off and McCoy couldn't find it in this cursed goopy swamp slop Vulcan's passed off as blood.

Drawing his right arm out he saw a flash of something just before the green ooze resumed seeping. Thrusting his hand back in he closed his hand on the object and pulled it out flinging the thick stuff on his and Nurse Chapel's face.

Neither seemed to care.


	5. Blue

**THANKS FOR ALL THE KIND REVIEWS...HOPEFULLY I'VE CAPTURED SCOTTY'S VOICE IN THIS ONE...HE'S TRICKY TO WRITE.. :/**

You could tell a lot about a man from his eyes. Aye. Montgomery Scott new a thing or two about readin' a man.

Like Dr. McCoy, most people avoided the doctor, but not Scotty. For nigh on two years now they'd been serving on the Enterprise and with a sort of grudgin' respect. McCoy called Scotty the ship's doctor and Scotty nicknamed McCoy the people engineer.

But McCoy's eyes, they fascinated Scotty. Not romantically. No, Montgomery Scott loved women and as drunk as he'd been, and he'd been nigh death a handful o' times, he never _wanted_ McCoy.

No, they fascinated Scotty in a sort of human study. The tiny crinkles around his eyes told Scotty that McCoy used to laugh and the deeper furrows in his brow reminded Scotty of how long it had been since he had.

So, when McCoy and Scotty found themselves the two lone occupants in a run down dive of a bar, in the back alley of some planet on shore leave, they drank and didn'ae talk.

And if Scotty squinted and turned his head just right McCoy's brow was smooth and worry free.


	6. Indigo

**HERE IS SOME ANGST, BECAUSE IT JUST WOULDN'T BE FF IF THERE WASN'T SOME...I LOVE SCOTTY, BUT IT HAD TO BE SOMEBODY AND BE FOREWARNED...THERE IS STRONG LANGUAGE IN THIS SHOT...IT JUST FELT RIGHT...HOPE NO ONE IS OFFENDED. :)**

Steam rose in delicate swirls from the surface of the mug. Still hot tea nearly bubbling from its surface. The indigo mug that belonged to Montgomery Scott still waiting on its owner to return from the landing party.

The wait would be indefinite. Scotty wasn't coming back. The hostiles on the surface had seen to that. Sulu was so angry he had locked phasers on the planet. Ready to destroy every thing that moved down there.

His dismissal from the bridge hadn't calmed him at all and he somehow found himself in engineering. Staring at the still hot tea of a good friend who was never going to drink it.

Scotty was a good man. Dedicated. Loyal. Now he was dead. It didn't make sense to Sulu and the mug just seemed wrong. If a person died who cleaned up all the messes they left behind?

The mug loomed larger. He had to get out of here before he got sick.

He was never leaving the helm again.

Fuck that planet, Fuck Starfleet and their orders of peace when a man was dead, and Fuck Scotty. Who gave him permission to go get himself killed?


	7. Violet

**THE FINAL CHAPTER. WE HAVE COME TO THE FIGURATIVE AND LITERAL END OF THE RAINBOW. :)**

The garden always felt like an almost secret. Sulu's hideaway that everyone knew about, but no one ever spoke of.

Uhura loved to wander through the rows of plants from Earth and many planets that she may never again see in this life. Her favorites, though, were the violets. The little, simple violet purple buds that were not ostentatious like an orchid or delicate like a rose.

She knew from strict observation they were Sulu's favorite as well. The way he paused just a half second when he passed them. His almost smile as he watered them, gently plucking the dead leaves so that they would flourish.

She wondered if he used the garden to escape as well. If the dedication he showed to the flowers was out of a need to focus all his attention on something rather than someone.

She would ask Chekov. He and Sulu appeared to be close.

Although, she realized, she and Chekov never really spoke.

**THAT'S IT. I HOPE YOU ENJOYED READING IT. I RATHER ENJOYED WRITING IT.**


End file.
